


Only Meant Well

by rose_griffes



Category: Battlestar Galactica (2003)
Genre: F/M, Humiliation, shades of dubcon, unhappy people making bad choices
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-20
Updated: 2013-03-20
Packaged: 2017-12-05 22:54:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/728823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rose_griffes/pseuds/rose_griffes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just because she has to live with them doesn't mean she has to like it.  Diana Seelix and a Two, post-finale.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Only Meant Well

**Author's Note:**

> I chose not to use the non-con label, but added a tag for dub-con. It's a matter of poor negotiation / what was left unspoken by both participants, so please don't read this if that could be upsetting to you.

Her foot is aching. Diana stops walking and finds a rock to sit on, then carefully unwraps the wide leather strips she had tied around her feet. Sure enough, another blister. She rewraps the leather more tightly, then stands and started walking again.

"You okay?" asks Dan.

"Great," she replies.

He either didn't notice her sarcasm or wasn't interested in it. "Looks like we got enough to feed everyone for a few days." Dan grins proudly at the large beast he's helping to carry.

"Make sure your pet cylon gets enough to eat," she tells him. She doesn't wait to see his hurt expression or hear his reply; instead she picks up her pace. 

She walks near James for a few moments; he looks winded. Some of the other chasers are limping like she is, but no one looks disappointed. They have plenty of meat this time and no one's going hungry.

Doesn't mean she has to stick around with them and make happy talk about it with Dan, though. Diana veers to the right. Catching up to Tim, she says, "Hey, I'm going to go to Maripol to visit some friends. I'll be back tomorrow."

Not wasting his breath with a verbal reply, Tim simply nods his head.

He'll remember, and check on her tomorrow. It's one reassuring aspect to life in a small community--there's always someone to keep track of what's going on. Sometimes it could be downright claustrophobic, though, seeing the same faces every day. The same people you don't want to see.

Diana thinks about who she can stay with in Maripol. She has some friends there; there's always some who will offer a bunk for the night.

* * *

He's a Two and everyone calls him Tanner, because he has the job of tanning the leather. It's messy and sometimes smelly; his cabin isn't that close to where he usually works, though, and his two windows are facing away from the pit.

Not that Diana cares. She's never talked to him other than in passing.

They're not talking now, either. One of her hands is down his pants, cradling his dick. He breathes in noisily for a moment then exhales, his breath warm against her neck. She shivers and slips her other hand under his shirt, feeling his stomach muscles contract against her hand.

"Want to do this?" she asks.

She hadn't asked him anything earlier. Just pushed him against the back wall inside his cabin, sliding her hands across his chest while he stared at her. He didn't talk, nor did he push her away, but didn't make any moves of his own, either. He let her touch him as she worked to make sure that his body would be aroused. 

He's still watching her now, looking far too self-aware to be into this, though his body's reaction indicates otherwise.

"Why?" he finally asks.

"First rule is no questions," she tells him. She thinks for a moment and adds, "No calling each other by name. No kissing." She thinks about adding, _No making babies_ , but she wouldn't be here otherwise. Wrong time of her cycle for that; she's been keeping close track for years now.

She's not sure she's going to let him get that far anyway, but she doesn't tell him that.

He raises an eyebrow at the no kissing rule. Tugging gently at her wrist, he pulls her hand out of his pants, raises it to his mouth and licks the pad of her thumb. "Okay," he says, and looks at her expectantly, as if to ask what next.

Diana surprises herself by not hesitating. "Strip," she tells him.

He takes off his clothes with no fanfare. Enough light is filtering through the cloth tacked over the windows that she can see him clearly. _They built them well_ , she thinks cynically. Nice chest. His skin is like hers--pale where covered by clothes, freckled and tan where the sun hits it. His erection is very obvious, though he's standing calmly waiting on her.

She's been turned on ever since this idea came to her, and seeing him following her directions is making her feel like she has an electrical current running through her, a buzz under her skin. "Lie down," she tells him. She doesn't want to waste time and he's a cylon. It doesn't matter to her if this works for him or not. She can feel her own body quickening, preparing for this, the anticipation building even faster because she doesn't have to think about pleasing him.

Diana quickly unties the leather cord keeping her trousers up, letting them fall to the ground. She steps out of them and walks over to him, leaving her shirt on. No free show for him.

She straddles him, pushing against his chest when he starts to raise his hands toward her. "Don't move," she orders. Diana keeps one hand pressed on the center of his chest for leverage and slides onto his erection, gasping as she feels the fullness inside her. It's been a few months since she's been with anyone and this is so much better than just her own fingers. She uses her legs to start moving, feeling that warmth centered inside, the slickness. Skin against skin; it's intoxicating even as she speculates fleetingly if his is synthetic.

Her thigh muscles begin to burn within moments; too much running earlier today to be using her legs this much again already. Sliding into an easier rocking motion from side to side, Diana takes one of her hands and rubs at her clitoris as she moves. She shakes her head abruptly at the cylon beneath her when he starts to speak, offering to help. "Shut up," she says.

His face is drawn taut with the effort not to move or speak, his eyes half-closed. It's potent, seeing him lie still when he wants to move. She wonders again what he would do if she just got up and walked away after getting herself off. Diana stares at him as she moves her fingers; she's so close now. Finally her muscles contract around the length of him; her head falls back as she climaxes.

 _Dizzy_ , she thinks for a moment, then realizes that he's flipped them over as her orgasm rippled through her. She can't organize her thoughts enough to do anything about it, though.

Instead she gasps for breath while he moves quickly above her, propped on one elbow for leverage so he doesn't put all of his weight on her. He reaches down with his other hand and pulls her knee higher. Without thinking she automatically moves her legs around his waist and inhales sharply at how the different angle feels. He notices her reaction immediately and slows down, thrusting deeper.

He draws his head closer to hers. She thinks for a moment that he's going to try kissing her; instead he presses his lips to her jawbone and moves down the column of her throat.

She normally doesn't like things touching her neck but right now the skin is sensitive from arousal; Diana makes a little noise in the back of her throat as his teeth and tongue gently explore. He thrusts harder, his hips moving more quickly now.

He switches his weight to his other arm and slides his free hand between their bodies, pressing against her clitoris with the same movements he had seen her use earlier. His face is a blur so close to hers; she closes her eyes and breathes fast as she feels it coming again.

She doesn't want _him_ to be the reason she gets off again, but it's starting to spiral through her. His mouth moves just below her ear and she climaxes as he nips at the skin there.

As her muscles slowly stop fluttering around him, he thrusts quickly two more times, then stops moving. His face is still tense; he finally pulls out and pushes himself up to his knees. Cupping his hands around his erection, he finishes what she started.

She watches as his body relaxes; he slides down, spine curved now instead of upright, ass on the floor.

That's when it hits her. She's lying on the bedroll of a cylon, half-undressed, thoroughly frakked. Her muscles are protesting the day's strenuous activity and one part of her brain craves a post-sex nap. The cylon is watching her and she doesn't know what he wants, what he's thinking.

She doesn't want to know. It doesn't matter. "I have to go," she tells him. He looks like he wants to say something to stop her; instead he hands her the trousers and leather cord. She quickly dresses and leaves, thinking that if she hurries, she'll make it back to her own settlement before nightfall.

This was a mistake. She's frakked up worse before, but Gods, if anyone found out about this...

She's not going to do this again. 

She'll think about it, though. Think about how she might have come even faster if he'd looked ashamed or cringed while she'd given him orders.

**Author's Note:**

> This isn't actually a brand-new story; I wrote it about two years ago and ended up making it a locked entry on my livejournal because 1) it bothered me, and 2) I had a slightly less unhappy resolution in mind, but finally decided that this worked well without much revising.


End file.
